


The Shape of Smoke

by missema



Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Chiss, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Galactic Emprie, Imperial Agent - Freeform, Imperial Intelligence, Intelligence Agent, Sexual Content, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-26 16:19:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 19,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"People might think that Grand Admiral Thrawn is the first and most important Chiss ever to serve the Empire.  Don't believe it.  Long before him, the Chiss Ascendancy had many proud Imperials amongst their own.  Even further back than that, there was Cipher Nine."</p><p>These are the tales of Agent Dran'tore, Code Name Cipher Nine of Imperial Intelligence during the Cold War.  Not all chapters follow the storyline, and are in mostly chronological order.  Some drabbles, some chapters, some inbetween.  Expect custom backstory and Imperial Agent spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What's in a Name?

Jiguuna was nothing like Nar Shaddaa, which was what the Agent had expected when she landed on Nal Hutta. Sure, she'd been briefed, but hadn't expected to find the planet so utterly ruined, the air thick with pollutants and the foul stench of industrial waste, constant gang warring in the streets, the people wearing the hangdog look of the downtrodden with no hope. But that was what she found in Jiguuna, city of gangsters and Hutts, of enslaved Evocii and crushing toxic heat. Everyone around her looked tired and fed up, and there were more people waiting to get on the shuttles offworld than they had seats. Inexplicably, as she moved through the Poison Pit Cantina, fresh from her mission briefing with Keeper, she missed Csilla.  
  
Even without closing her eyes, she could almost hear the voice of her father as they landed, lauding the many benefits to living amongst their own after time spent near humans. Csilla was the capital of the Chiss Ascendancy, and had been at one point her home, however brief her stay was. The glaciers and frosty air would be a blessed relief after the choking fog of Hutta. The longing fled her mind as rapidly as it had come, her attention back on her surroundings as she stepped outside and heard the sounds of blaster fire whizzing around her in almost every direction. Without conscious thought, she readied her rifle, soothed by the feeling of it in her hands.  
  
Shooting, she could do and do well. It had been one of the areas she'd excelled in during her training, but truthfully, she'd been exceptional at all of them, otherwise she wouldn't have been deployed out into the field. Her weapons, she loved and babied, gave them names and crooned as she cleaned them, because she'd worked so hard to master the art of combat. It helped too, that she was sleeping with her instructor and got plenty of extra attention. That hadn't been the only reason she'd done well, but a little extra motivation hadn't hurt either.  
  
"Tore, regroup quickly and move on to the next one. Stop taking so much time after each shot." He'd told her, holding her shoulders as she learned to fired a blaster rifle time and time again, getting used to the jerk of the recoil. It was minimal, blasters were designed to minimize kickback, but before her training, she'd never even held a weapon before.  
  
"I'm trying." She replied through gritted teeth. It took all of her concentration to shoot the moving holo targets ahead of her. Her fingers burned from the heat of the rifle, her body held tense. A shower later would help take the ache from her muscles, ease the rigidity from her hips that came from holding the unfamiliar grounding stance as she practiced. An extra pair of hands in that shower would provide further relief, though it was never enough with the scant amount of sleep she was allotted.  
  
"Try harder. Do better, or you won't make it. Intelligence only takes the best of the best for field agents, and you don't want to be stuck behind a desk. You can do this Tore." The encouragement spurred her on, and she narrowed her eyes, willing her fingers to work faster as she tried to clear the targets in front of her.  
  
Eventually, she grew to like the weapons training. Besides the obvious advantages of private lessons and keeping her alive, there was a great sense of accomplishment in learning something so completely foreign to her. Right after she'd finished, she was invited to the intensive training for Intelligence field agents, and there had become the Agent. A shifting, ever changing persona that served the Empire in all things, even before herself.   
  
Amongst her own, she'd been considered a hotheaded embarrassment, lacking the cool detachment that oft characterized the Chiss. She supposed, after some time, she might have found her way, a place within the society of her own, but her upbringing had been split between the Chiss and the Imperials, not truly one or the other culturally. In the Empire, she was an alien and not fit to be part of the elite considered little more than a taboo bit of exotica to temp the officers. With no other ties, she found she fit in Intelligence, the shadowy world that lay between half-truths and lies, of seduction and stealth and assassination made to look like something else. If she didn't have her knife under her pillow, it was in her hand, and that was the way she liked it. Her life felt more like her own when she was pretending to be someone else. Plus, she liked being around humans, probably more than was proper but then again, she'd never been much of a Chiss.  
  
That fleeting bit of time was the last time anyone had called her by her true name before she'd lost it to a fathomless future and early grave, if she was lucky. Still, it was more than she could have hoped for before. The training had been special to her, the thrill of accomplishments, competition with the other recruits, and nights made not so lonely by the feeling of calloused fingers kneading out the kinks in her back. It was a pleasant jumble of memory, a montage of events crammed into a short period of time and capped with the faint whisper of her name.   
  
No one ever said it now, but then again that was the point. She was whomever Intelligence wanted her to be, but never herself. No one she came into contact with knew her real name, but she missed it from time to time, even though humans had a way of not being able to pronounce it correctly. They usually would up saying "Tory" which was a decent enough approximation of her name Dran'tore'soze. It was a relatively easy name in Chenuh, but too unwieldy for those not familiar with the language. She never thought she would miss her name at all. Through her training she'd thought of it as a way of letting go her disappointing and fairly confusing past, but once forced to relinquish it, found it hard to simply give up.  
  
None of that mattered on Jiguuna. There was a job to do here, requiring neither name nor the accent that marked her as an Imperial. She left both behind without another thought, blasting a path through the rabble as she headed towards her contact. The Agent took down her targets easily, her training second nature to her. The battlefield that was the city streets were much more silent as the Chiss formerly known as Tore took up her new identity as the Red Blade.


	2. Being Blade

Dheno Rey was waiting outside of Nem'ro's private rooms, knowing that the "Red Blade" would come there.  He doubted his source at first, who insisted that the Blade was in town, because the description didn't fit at all, but if someone was calling themselves Blade, they were either really stupid or the real Blade was dead.  Either way, he was going to get his money, even if he had to take it off the fake Blade's corpse.  A debt was a debt.

The woman he was looking for was Chiss, and aside from the blue skin he had a standard description, approximately 1.8 meters tall, blue hair, rounded face with gold markings under her eyes.  He'd committed to memory, just in case.  But there weren't many Chiss on Hutta, let alone going in and out of Nem'ro's suite, so he figured she wouldn't be too hard to spot.

Tore was already wary of this assignment.  Too many people were noticing her, and she guessed that not many of the people on Hutta actually fought.  Sure, the gangs warred with one another and Fa'athra was making a mess of things, but the citizens mostly kept their heads down and worked.  What life could have been so bleak that a migration to Hutta would be an upgrade?  She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

It didn't surprise her when she rounded the corner to find a Zabrak waiting.  She was the Blade, and according to him, they knew each other.  Tore let him say his piece and remained cool, ready to make a deal.  He seemed like a very reasonable sort, and she had to keep her cover.  Killing was always her last resort, preferring first stealth and then seduction.  Knowing full well that Keeper was monitoring her, Tore made her move, her voice gentle as she propositioned the man calling himself Dheno Rey.

"You wouldn't take a girl's last few credits?  Leave her broke and wanting?"  She purred, her intent clear.  Tore watched his eyes change as he registered her meaning, and half a second later, they were raking her over figure.  As he sized her up, his hands rubbed his chin, as if he were really thinking about it.

The next words out of his mouth was an acceptance, as they'd both known it would be.  Slipping her arm through his, she looked up at him with a smile.  Dheno was going to enjoy this, it would likely be the best debt he'd ever collected on.

His rooms weren't far, mostly because he'd wanted to get this over and done with so he could finish his work and get off Hutta.  Keying in his security code, Dheno let her into the room, and she went in just far enough to say she was in before she turned around and ran her hand up Dheno's arm.  The promise of sex thrilled her as they'd went the short distance to his rooms, and when she turned to him, she licked her lips in anticipation.  He gave a low chuckle as he slipped an arm around her waist.

"Impatient aren't you, lovely?"  Dheno breathed in her ear.

"Maybe I'm just really glad to see such a handsome friend."  She countered, and he gave a wheezy laugh that was more breath than sound, tickling the skin on her neck.

"I don't know if you killed the other Blade or if you're just trading on the name, and I don't care, cause I like you a lot."  

"Glad to hear it."  Tore replied, as Dheno kissed her neck.  She moaned involuntarily and felt his lips slide into a grin as he kissed her again.  

There was no shyness between them, no gentle introductory kisses, replaced with heat and greed.  His mouth skimmed over her jaw and she ran a hand up the back of his head, her hand grazing over the tattooed skin to gently touch his horns.  A sound between a rumble and a groan came from him as she did, and Dheno responded by pressing her up against the wall, tilting her head to elongate her neck so he could sweep his tongue the length of it.  A shiver trilled down the length of her body.

Weapons were in the way.  A rifle mounted on her back, a knife at her hip.  He was still armed too, and they decided, wordlessly and in unison that they would disarm.  Those most obvious protections came off, quickly, hastily shunted aside, so her hands could get busy pushing the leatheris jacket with the high collar off his shoulders, getting her closer to the chest beneath.   Her digits were busy reaching and pushing and his were groping, taking stock of her flesh, feeling it warm under his palms, responding to his touch.  The feeling of her against him, he loved.  It was frightening too, because she was smoke and danger, heat and shadow combined under sultry wrapping paper, and all of it wasn't his not even for a moment.  She wasn't anyone's - not even hers really.  The life she had claimed her, left a brand that was as much of an enticement as it was warning.

He wanted it to be slow, so he tempered his heat with the desire to drag it out, took off her clothes first, sweeping fingers across her skin, kissing as if he were her lover.  Dheno wasn't remotely romantic, but this woman, whether she was assassin or merc he didn't care, she demanded more by the simple force of her presence.  This woman, the Blade, had nothing to fear from him, her red eyes had been hard and focused back in Nem'ro's suite.  She wanted to be writhing in his arms, he felt obliged to show her his best.  It was what old friends did, after all.

A hand clasped around him, already too hard to stop her.  She apparently was determined to show her friendship as well, and he let his head dip back between his shoulders as she got on her knees.  Her hands worked his length, then one cupped his balls as she touched the pointed tip of her tongue to the head of him.  Dheno gasped his approval, making her bolder and she took him into her mouth.  She was good at this, deft movements of her hands, mouth alternately sucking and lapping at his slit, tasting the salty bitter of the herald of his arousal.  

"Harder.  Suck harder."  He moaned, gripping the wall.  It was far enough away that he had to reach for it, but he did.  His body curved towards her in an elegant arc, an arm extending to the wall.  The heat of her mouth closed around him, less air and tongue, just pressure bringing him to the edge.  His body was a tense line, and relief was nearly there.

It rocked through him, blossoming heat from within that shot to the furthest points of his body.  A heavy moan colored the air, and split second later she was filled with his release, her hand easing him through, mouth still sucking.  He gave shudder after shudder until they subsided, and she was being hauled up and into a kiss.  His tongue swirled over hers, eager to taste himself as she did.

Tore felt herself lowered to the bed by strong arms and she smiled up at Dheno, who'd distracted her with kisses when he picked her up.  Spread like a feast before him, there was the merest hint of hesitation before he dove in, working his way up from the insides of her knees where he'd chosen to land his first kiss.  Horns poked her a few times as he moved along her thighs, eager but painstaking, marking his route along her body.  When he finally reached the fine dark blue curls between her legs, he moaned and backed away to let a light finger trace the path his tongue would take.

All of his self-imposed control deserted him, and Dheno was at heart, not a tease.  Fingers and tongue, wet heat meeting wet heat as he busied himself making the most satisfying of sounds - the tiny, soft moans that came from pleasure.  Tore obliged, but how could she not?  He was making it his business to figure out what she liked, no direction about speed or pressure need be vocalized, he listened to the beat of her heart, felt the pulse between her lips, the twitch of her hips.  She rode his mouth until sweat beaded on her neck and the sheets twisted in her fists, and she'd called out twice to thank whatever goddess had put Dheno Rey in her path.

After she came, he pulled himself up, smirking.  She rolled onto her side and felt him crawl behind her, his erection back in full force, hard against her back.  One leg over and behind and he slid into her, hands cupping her breasts.  Fast, shallow strokes filled her just the right amount, and had him groaning, biting her shoulder.  Her whole body shook, rippled with each thrust.  His fingers dusted over her sensitive clit, but they didn't try tease another orgasm from her, just touching on their way over the expanse of her stomach before settling on her hips to guide her.

That position, as gratifying as it was, didn't last long.  His hands directed and she obeyed, pulling her on top.  She settled down, taking his cock in her hand and leading him back to her, gasping as he pushed up and back into her.  Dheno sprawled onto his back, letting her take all control, the defined muscles of his torso gleaming beneath her in the dim light.  He was well-built and sculpted, but not so polished he lost any of his edginess.  Lined ink that mimicked his facial tattoos ran down the length of his arms and chest, flexing as she ground against his faster, not letting him rest.

She leaned forward, teasing his face with the hard ends of her heavy breasts and was rewarded quickly.  His mouth moved to both of them greedily in turn, suckling one hard and then the other.  Hips ground against his, he was in deep, and could feel her every movement around him.  He let himself be distracted by her nipples, sucking the hard navy beads until she cried out, then letting the soft, wet skin brush against his face.

He had one last way he wanted it before he let go completely.  Turning her again, she slid beneath him and he above, one blue leg slung over his shoulder.  Dheno slammed into the Blade, pulling almost completely out afterwards and then did it again.  He watched her, watched his length disappear inside of her, saw her breathing hard, the whole of her body jiggle when he rammed and repeated.  His hand held her leg up against him, the muscles tensing and flexing against his chest, in concert with the clenching around his cock.  As he had before, he was moaning as he came, swearing and sweating, pounding away.  

He'd collapsed on top of her when he was done, breathing heavy.  Rolling to the side, Dheno closed his eyes, his legs still tangled with hers.

There was no telling how long he'd slept, but he guessed it hadn't been that long.  She was fully dressed and smelled like the soap from his washroom, her rifle back in place.

She pulled her hair down from its bun, shook it out and rearranged it back on top of her head in a practiced motion.  His eyes never left hers, not even when she dipped down to give him a quick kiss.

"That was just what I needed."  She said, exhaling heavily.  "Thank you, my good friend."

"My pleasure.  I guess I'll see you around Blade."  Dheno stretched in his bed, putting his hands behind his head.

"Maybe."  She answered, looking up quickly to give him a smile.

They both knew they wouldn't, but it was comfortable to say.  The Blade left quietly and went back to Nem'ro's suite.  A glance at the clock over the bar told her it had been nearly three hours since she'd first been stopped by Dheno Rey.  She shook her head with a small smile of disbelief and went on about her mission.


	3. Kaliyo Does Kaas City

"I want to die in a cantina fight, not ticking off some bureaucrat." Tore recalled the words Kaliyo uttered when they landed in the spaceport on Dromund Kaas, that apparently didn't apply to them now. Kaliyo was amusing herself, and Tore in Kaas City.

As a companion, Tore found Kaliyo one of the best kinds. She was out for herself and honest about it, her background shady and unknown, her intentions never set in stone. She respected that Kaliyo didn't bother with pretense and backed up her words with undeniable power. It didn't bother her that there were lies and half-truths in just about everything - Tore expected that from almost everyone she met after joining Intelligence.

Theirs was a relationship based on strength, convenience and credits. There was nothing she didn't like about her new associate. It certainly wasn't boring with her around, especially since she'd pretty much started this cantina fight. Perhaps fight was too strong of a word, it was more like a family reunion squabble, complete with all the bickering and cornering off. All around them, people were whispering behind hands, throwing around glances sharper than glass and trying not to look guilty. Tore smiled into her drink as she toed her boot into the foot of the man next to her, meeting his glance with a small smile. The helpless lump grinned toothily back at her, wedged between Tore and Kaliyo. He'd started buying them drinks after Kaliyo got their last patron so drunk she slumped over at the table and her droid had to carry her out.

This city was a bore, and both of them knew it. Full of stuck up Imperials and the Sith they served, it was nothing but entrenched infighting and the same old backbiting that had been done for generations. All she and Kaliyo were doing was distracting themselves, passing the time until they could finish their mission and find out where else Imperial Intelligence would send them. She couldn't even get properly drunk. Not that she'd mentioned it to Kaliyo, but besides her Chiss physiology being particularly hardy, she'd been given enhancements by Intelligence to make her process alcohol more efficiently. Useful at work - and not so lucky outside of it.

The Nexus Room wasn't like the filthy, crowded cantinas that Kaliyo favored, but she had decided that it was good enough in a pinch. So she dragged Tore along with her, and they'd set out to wheedle secrets, money and favors out of the good citizens of Kaas City. Anything they could leverage was considered a score, and the two of them definitely kept score during the night. 

Kaliyo wasn't really interested in the secrets of officers she'd never met of Sith that were protected by their connection to the Force, but rather just the chance to get secrets from someone, to gain their confidence. As for all the whispering they caused, she preferred a straight up fight if there was going to be one. But the longer they stayed, the less that possibility presented itself, and Tore was glad for it. There was a definite lack of shivs and blades here, anyone that really wanted to fight would probably get a blaster to the face or a lightsaber in the gut.

"So, you say your wife is off planet on business." Kaliyo delved back into her conversation with the man at the bar, as Tore motioned for another drink. At least they weren't paying for them, and she had to admit, it was fun to watch everyone squirm.

They didn't do too much damage, because Imperial Intelligence was watching and they both knew it. So this cantina wasn't fighting with blows and insults, but rather whispers and innuendo. Tore was playing it straight while Kaliyo unleashed herself on the people. She listened and manipulated, and found out what they could about whomever they disliked or scorned. And then, the same process with their enemies, dropping hints and a little bit of info there, a lie here. It was fun, it was wicked and resulted in a level of mayhem just beneath the pulse of the music. 

But after a while, both Tore and Kaliyo lost interest in their little game. It wasn't as much fun once people were disinclined to start new conversations, and the tension got to be less exhilarating and more exhausting as the night wore on. Besides, this wasn't a game that got good until a few nights in, after working the people for a while and becoming 'friends'. Unfortunately, they didn't have the time, and Kaliyo didn't have patience. She wanted amusement on the spot, and the long con wasn't as interesting to her as making two people angry at each other in the moment or winning all of someone's money at a game of sabacc.

When a young woman actually wearing an Imperial Intelligence uniform came in and nodded at them, Tore knew it was time to wrap up the night. "Let's either get some rest so we can shoot people tomorrow, or find someone to leave with." Tore said as she rolled her eyes at two nobles bickering in a corner, part of Kaliyo's latest bit of handiwork.

"Agreed. I'm leaning towards the sleep, agent. There's no one here worth my time."

Tore shrugged. There were several rich men there, but Kaliyo had taken little to no interest in them, since most of them also wore officers uniforms. She didn't mind uniforms, but being with Kaliyo had made her stand out, and she also preferred not to be remembered too well. It was a part of the job. There was a little pang of regret as she walked out of the door - she hadn't slept with anyone since Dheno Rey, but that could wait. Opportunity wasn't something she lacked.

When they got back to the spartan quarters provided for them, Kaliyo turned to her. They hadn't really had a chance to talk, but neither of them was up for anything more after listening to other people whine and gloat all night.

"You play a good game. We might actually have fun together. Although I didn't see you drink that much, so you'll have to learn to keep up with me."

Tore cocked her head to the side and smirked at the Rattataki. "I think I can manage that. I'm counting on a good time Kaliyo, you don't know how dull field work can get."

Kaliyo laughed, the sound loud enough to echo around the plain room. "And here I thought you were going to be trying for the title of 'Little Miss Imperial'. Keep surprising me, agent, and I'll keep you entertained."

Both women went to sleep with the same thought, planning to surprise and hopefully get the better of the other.


	4. Intelligence

Keeper had more backbone than she would have thought from their brief interactions on Hutta, but the more she worked with the man the more she respected him.  Not many would have asked a member of the Dark Council to leave, even if he didn't succeed in removing Darth Jadus from their presence.  He impressed her, and as she worked, Tore hoped that she would continue to earn his favor.

Darth Jadus on the other hand, she doubted she would ever grow to like the man.  Tore wasn't fond of the Dark Council, but then again, most Imperials that weren't part of it didn't give them much thought save for hoping not to earn their direction attention or displeasure.  She had already achieved the first, and worried about the latter.  Before, when she'd been just coming into her adulthood after bouncing around the Ascendancy, it was one of the things she took into account when she considered moving to Imperial Space full time.  

Things worked well enough for a society governed by an Emperor that no one had really seen in hundreds of years.  He had people that did his will or claimed to be doing so.  There were the Emperor's Hands, Voice and other enforcers that served on par with the Dark Council.  The Dark Council, consisting of all Sith members, governed and had been doing so to their liking since the retreat of the Emperor.  For centuries they operated without the direct oversight that was built into their positions, and it the effects showed in society.

She was not Sith, and had no hope of ever moving into the upper echelons of Imperial society.  As an alien, she was constantly looked down upon, even though the Chiss were Imperial allies - the only ones they had officially.  It was times like these, when she had to deal with Darth Jadus and his whims that she wondered exactly why she'd come to Imperial Space.

The answer, as always was far less glamorous and complicated than her thoughts made it seem.  Money.  It was money, at least in part -  which was strange enough to hear a Chiss admit because since credits weren't a necessity in the Ascendancy.  To get away from the life that weighed down on her.  To get away from people she knew and lose herself amongst strangers.  In Imperial Space, she was anyone at all.  Not a widow.  Not someone who'd lost the life she'd so carefully built for herself.  She had worked so hard only to find out she would never fit within her own people.

There were things she wasn't sure she'd tell anyone ever about her past.  Late at night, there were times when she lamented her inability to confide in someone for the sake of her cover.  Then there was the more pressing question, just whom would she confide in had she the chance?  She didn't have friends or family in Imperial Space when she'd decided to come here.  Who could she talk with to chase away the dreams that bothered her from time to time, to sweep away the melancholy that made her second-guess herself?

"So I wonder, why did you join Imperial Intelligence?"  Keeper asked.  

During her debriefing, she hadn't been able to formulate the true answer, not when faced with the question head on like that.   He'd described them as sanitation workers, the people that did the work no one else wanted to do.  Thinking on it was unavoidable now that the question had been voiced, but made her disquieted.  At the end of the day, was she working or running from herself?

Tore wasn't able to set the questions aside, especially not after Jadus died in the explosion on his ship. His interest and death seemed to make her more aware of herself - strange for a man that she had barely known and had liked even less.  In life and in death, at least he helped her career.  That was about the best thing she was able to say about Darth Jadus, even as they headed away from Dromund Kaas towards Balmorra to start unraveling the mystery of his death.


	5. Just Rewards

Helping the terrorists on Balmorra - that wasn't what she thought she'd be doing. Chemish irked her in a way that bordered on deadly - if she didn't need to get to Gray Star, they would likely have their showdown. Tore was a professional, she could reign it in so well that Chemish would never even suspect a thing. 

It was her job to go undercover, even if Sanju threatened it at every turn by asking her to reconsider her actions, to sabotage the resistance. She wasn't going to earn any friends by doing it, and possibly get both of them killed. So why was she listening to him?

Because he was awfully cute, and she had a weakness for cute guys who helped out on her missions. In her job, Tore didn't bother to take the time to speculate about people's backgrounds much. They all had a past that wasn't relevant to the mission. But Sanju Pyne's accent marked him as Republic, just as hers gave her away as growing up in the Imperial influenced part of the Chiss Ascendancy. Sure, she could fake a Republic accent, but Sanju wasn't faking his. Strange that she should find herself thinking, wondering about him and who he really was as they both pretended to be other people.

It was a relief to be working a mission with that understood Intelligence somewhat. He wasn't the best candidate to be an agent - too idealistic. He'd never be able to live with acceptable losses, she admired his plucky courage in the face of danger. He knew he could die if things went sideways and his cover was blown, but he thought the risk worth taking. Tore wondered if she'd ever been that way herself, but her life hadn't left much room for idealism and hope.

Besides, they were working up towards something, even if it was just a kiss. The delayed spark in his eye when she'd first met him and called him cute had started the tension building between them. It threw him off balance, but he'd recovered nicely. Even Kaliyo could feel it, judging from her comments and constant eye-rolling when Sanju called her with yet another suggestion on how to 'help' the resistance. He was helping himself right down the path to a blaster in the back of the head, but not if she could prevent it.

"Alright, Sanju. I'll think about it." She said. He wanted to reroute the Gray Star - in effect kidnap him, and then send out orders in hs name. This last idea was as cockamamie as the others, but she had to admit it had potential. 

There was the risk of getting caught by the already suspicious cell, but then again, when wasn't there? She had a job to do for the Empire, and Sanju's plan would put them in a position of power. Getting the one nice guy she'd met on Balmorra killed wasn't part of her plan, so she took her own precautions before she left, making sure that Sanju could actually pull off housing a resistance leader and feeding his followers messages of their choosing.

Tore wasn't quite sure why she cared so much.

He was there, after she went to check in with Lekern at the end of the mission. She had a feeling he would be. It was strange to see him in Sobrik, see him in someplace where the sun shone instead of on holo or in a dank cave. Despite the station chief's words, Sanju looked like he was adapting to having two identities just fine. Leaning against the wall, he looked calm and nearly content, better than when she'd last seen him.

"And I guess you're leaving Balmorra? It's too bad -- would have been nice to spend some time together outside of work." He said. She knew that tone, he was suggesting, not really asking. Sanju was different than when she'd met him, but the confidence became him.

"I have some time now." Tore replied. She shouldn't have, because this wasn't strictly part of the mission, but Nar Shaddaa could wait a few hours.

She heard Kaliyo's little laugh as she left, and threw her partner a smile over her shoulder. Sobrik's cantina wasn't far, and she walked there with him, their talk easy and light. They held hands as if they were lovers, and for a moment when the breeze passed them over, she could almost see it.

"Now I know how this works, but you're going to have to give me a name, something, even if it's just for tonight." Sanju said to her.

Tore tilted her head to the side, thinking. "If it's just between the two of us, then you can call me Sileea." The core name was common amongst the Chiss, with variations of course. It had once been the name of a storied heroine, who died honorably serving the Ascendancy. A flurry of children had been given some form of her name, though it was considered outdated when Tore was born.

"Sileea. Okay, that almost suits you." Sanju said, squeezing her hand in his warm, calloused one as they entered the cantina. "I like it."

"Now that you know my name, I thought you said something about drinks and friendly company." 

"I know a drink I think you'll like." Sanju promised, going straight to the bar as she picked out a seat.

It was dim and not busy, but not completely empty either. Most of the people scattered around looked like officers in need of a desperate break from their lives. Sanju proved to be a lively conversationalist, talking so she wouldn't have to and bringing forth a steady stream of giggles as he went from story to story. Her observation about his accent had been correct - he'd grown up in the Republic, but unlike so many he saw them for what they were and defected. 

Despite his one mention of his past, the conversation was easy, and the drink to her liking. As they sat together, they drew closed and closer to one another, her laughter getting closer to his ear, a hand resting on her thigh.

"I've got an awfully comfortable ship in the spaceport, unless you know someplace closer." Tore suggested, her finger drawing a delicate line up his forearm and down again. Sanju caught her hand with his.

"There's an apartment I use sometimes, it's not far."

"Lead the way." She said and rose. He seemed as steady as she was, but they hadn't actually done that much drinking. It had been more an excuse to get close, to create an intimacy before they could go to bed together. For whatever reason, Sanju liked the fantasy, and he was her choice - so she didn't mind playing along. It did make them seem closer, his hand warmer in hers as they left the cantina to go into the Sobrik evening.


	6. Tore in the Sky with Dynamite

Sanju was like the breeze.

Everywhere at once, she could feel him skimming over her skin as soon as they entered the small, dark studio apartment he had access to in Sobrik. His breath was audible, nearby, caressing her like his hands. A light kiss brushed her lips before they even got through the door, a hand in the hair she'd let cascade over her shoulders so she wouldn't be so recognizable in the cantina. His hand flowed through the stands like water, and she warmed as he bestowed a shy smile upon her. 

She didn't kid herself that she was about to glimpse his private quarters - he was enough of an agent that he wouldn't have anything of the sort. But it was nice to be alone with him, no mission or Chemish breathing down their neck, the pleasant buzz of liquor flowing through them at just the right level to remove any awkwardness.

He kissed her as if they were lovers. It was sweet and yielding, and had the art of someone that had once had someone special, but not for some time. She liked that, knowing that he would remember her just because there had been no other for a while before. He'd remember her, for what it was worth.

"Sileea." He rasped as she kissed his neck and collarbone. Her lips curved into a smile against his skin at the sound of the name.

Her hands tugged at his clothes, and with a chuckle that sounded like the way good brandy tasted, Sanju helped her undress him. There was no hurry, and he guided her hands to his buttons, stopping to kiss her lips along the way. Tore wasn't used to the pacing but adapted quickly, returning his kisses as an industrious hand kept working. Distraction was familiar territory for her.

There was a bed, not big enough for two people to sleep in but bigger than strictly needed for one. They would be comfortable enough for their purposes. Not big enough to stay, but then again, she never stayed.

Beneath the modest garb he wore, Sanju was solid with muscle and scarred from old fights. His chest was surprisingly tan, as if he actually took it off his shirt and worked under the Balmorran sun. Her fingers wound their way up arms corded with sinewy muscle, as if he could simply pluck her up and carry her away. His body was marked with a strength and life she hadn't expected. There was a small tattoo on his shoulder blade her keen eyes noticed before he turned to face her again. The man was incredibly nice to look at naked - in fact Tore was sure she liked him naked much more than clothed. 

He undressed her as if he were weaving strands of glass into an intricate shape. Light fingertips brushed over her skin as he stripped away her armor, the knife at her side, the gun on her back. The knee-high boots were pulled off one at a time, a hand resting on his shoulder to steady herself as he left her barefoot. Sanju shot a grin up at her after watching her wiggle her toes to celebrate their freedom. A hand slid up the inside of her calf and down again before he repeated the process for the other side. If it had been anyone else, she would have felt oddly naked at the end, but it fit what little she knew of Sanju. He was careful but not cautious, thoughtful but not without his own agenda.

She realized what it was after she'd fallen under the thrall of his soft sweeping touches. Seduction in gentle, sweet strokes, a kiss that was more about tasting her lips than meeting her tongue until it wasn't. They were friends, if they hadn't been before, they were now. With every revelation of skin, he found a new way to touch her, hands teasing and deft, but kisses that betrayed the intensity of his desire.

The ascent to the bed was delayed so they would admire each other. When Tore gave no hint of modesty, Sanju gazed at her with open enthusiasm, his head cocked to the side and a smile on his face. Under his gaze, her nipples hardened into deep blue pebbles, eager to be touched and teased, and her skin nearly begged for his touch. When it came, it was more chaste and restrained than she expected. A cupped hand held her shoulder than traveled down her arm, her side as they stood close. 

When she returned his caress, she felt him shiver in answer. She ran a finger down the raised skin of a deep incision, a definite souvenir of a vibroknife. She'd caused more than a few of them herself, and wondered about the fight. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, unable to help herself. There was a quality about him that made her want to get to know him, as futile as the efforts may have been.

"Later. I promise." He answered. His eyes were honest, just as they had been when he'd called her all of those times on holo, but this time devoid of the pleading. Heated want filled them, raw and dark, and Tore brushed her curiosity aside to take his hand - an invitation to finally make their way to the bed.

They didn't lay, but she sat on his lap and renewed their kisses. They were positioned as if the bed were instead a couch, but she didn't mind. He smiled at first, she could feel him against her mouth, kisses like sunshine as their skin touched. Sanju pushed her hair behind her shoulders to reveal her breasts, the back of his hand drifting gently across her neck and face. Lips on her neck, on his chin, hands buried in his hair as his mouth navigated the soft valley between her breasts and back up again - all while she straddled him, her thighs wrapped tight around him all her skin touching his.

Her growing wetness was mirrored by the hard heat of him, and through a kiss she communicated her want, her need to have him. With one slight shift, they joined, marking the entry with a mingled groan of satisfaction. He lay back as far as he could, until his head hit the wall, and Sanju had the perfect vantage point to watch her lever up and down. His hands on her sides, guided her at first, but then he let them explore, capturing a breast so he could lean close and taste her nipple once again, between her legs to help bring her to orgasm.

Tore closed her eyes and tipped her head back, intent on the feelings. Her skin prickled with life, and Sanju gave as good as he got, his hips moving with hers, smiling when he made her gasp or moan, and sometimes lost in his own pleasure. She could feel the end even as she willed it to give her another few moments, because this felt so good, so achingly sweet - something that had been missing from her life for a long time. But nature didn't listen to her silent pleas and she shattered against him, drawing in, clenching and shivering with the strength of it. When it began to subside, he caught her in another kiss, this one triumphant and warm, his laughing lips against her own, dry from her rapid intake of breath, the throaty cries she'd just issued.

Sanju didn't follow her, but changed their position so they were laying, or at least he was since she was still on top. It suited her to look down and watch his face, to see him respond. She rolled her hips and pressed her stomach to his getting closer than they were before, taking the hand which had guided her to pleasure and twining it with hers. The closeness, their shared heat - it made his movements rougher and more urgent underneath her, so much that she gave up trying to keep up and became the counterpoint to his deep thrusts, circling her waist to create tension. 

They were built to break, and he eventually toppled, whispering Sileea as he closed his eyes. Her hair stuck to their sweaty skin and she was breathless as his fingertips dug into her soft flesh, giving her pain as pleasure rendered him mute. They stayed together as the air around them cooled, as the breaths in tandem became less audible, as it all receded to the background and nothing mattered but their fingers still laced together.

"I could fall in love with you." Sanju whispered some time later, as they went back to Lekern's shop to meet Kaliyo. She was sure that in their absence her partner had closed the cantina down, or found some more amusing way to distract herself. 

"I know." She answered, pausing to give him a hug. He held her longer than necessary, thumb stroking her cheek as he looked down at her face, illuminated by the floodlights that banished the dark from Sobirk. Tore had a feeling that the Sileea part of her was already head over heels for Sanju, despite her best efforts to keep it in check.

Tore knew he wouldn't come with her, but she asked anyway and took his refusal stoically. He belonged on Balmorra, and she in the sky. It was only once she'd floated away, miles of stars and space between them that she realized he never did tell her about that scar.


	7. Watcher X

There was something alluring about the unsettling Watcher X. Not sexually - Tore didn't feel attracted to him - but found the man fascinating. No one ever spoke about what happened to Ciphers, Watchers, Fixers and Minders after the end of their jobs. It wasn't a popular topic around Imperial Intelligence. She had simply assumed that the bulk of their agents were killed in the line of duty, but not all of them. Some of them wound up like Watcher X. Even withh the investment of all the eugenics that went into his creation, he'd been shunted aside. 

He'd been discarded, but not thrown away, if that made sense. He was there for her to use but he wasn't really of much good to anyone else. It seemed pointless to put him in a cell for just in case, but then again the Empire had machinations that she was ignorant of, and perhaps there was more to keeping him locked up than Watcher X was leading her to believe. He was devious, almost as smart as Keeper and bitter as old ale. She wondered exactly what he'd been like when he worked for Intelligence.

But more than that, she wondered if this was her future. If a blaster didn't scorch her out of existence, or some other gruesome wartime end, would she be sent to Shadow Town? Stored away in case the Empire needed her, but imprisoned. The thought made shivers go down her spine. Whether Watcher X deserved such a fate was beyond her, but she didn't want it for herself. Being presented with such a bleak future made her a little less suspicious of Watcher X than her good sense would normally allow. But she couldn't bring herself to dislike the man, even if he did make her uneasy.

Tore had no doubt that he would manipulate and betray her if it would benefit him. But that didn't mean that they couldn't play together nicely. Perhaps not as nice as she'd been with Sanju on Balmorra, but nice enough to the imprisoned man. Nar Shaddaa had her feeling more out of her element than she'd felt before, and she needed all the help she could get.

Watcher X was vital to her mission, a mission she was starting to take more seriously as it wore on. The more she saw of the Eagle's little network of friends, the more she disliked it. They didn't seem to have regard for anyone that wasn't part of their group and their aims consisted of mostly causing panic in the Empire with the intent to 'change' things. As if it ever worked that way. Change was slow and sudden, a force of the people and a confluence of right time, right place. The Eagle would never get what he wanted, because forcing change never convinced anyone and brought the wrath of the old regime down to geld the masses. 

Her gut told her that the Eagle wasn't working alone. There had to be someone with more influence, someone bigger that was hiding behind the public face. Time and time again she'd seen the pattern in old mission reviews and case studies - there was someone that simply wanted profit behind it all. Most of the time, it wasn't as crass as just wanting riches, but rather the intoxicating elixir of some combination of power, influence and money. A lot of people were going to die in this scheme, but then again, Darth Jadus had already died because of it.

"You must obtain a sample - a Cyclone dose or a users blood sample." Watcher X was saying. He'd told her about the deadly modification serum the Eagle's network planned to distribute, but she got the feeling he was withholding information. Likely he was keeping key details to himself so he could reveal them later. To what end, Tore didn't know - but that was the point.

Perhaps after being locked away for so long, he wanted to extend his usefulness. Whether it was mere boredom that motivated him or a more sinister desire, Tore didn't wait to find out. She needed to get back to her mission.


	8. Nar Shaddaa

"You can't come to Nar Shaddaa without gambling a little." Kaliyo insisted. "Unless you're afraid of losing."

Tore laughed at the attempt to goad her into gambling. Games of chance ruled her life, putting money on one held little enticement for her. She gambled with lives and outcomes every day. It seemed silly to spend her credits in the vain hope of getting more. Money meant so little to her, but then again, she'd been raised without the concept.

"I'll tell you what," She said to Kaliyo, "I'll gamble after we finish this mission. We can have a night out at the casino here. It has to be better than the night we had at the Nexus Room in Kaas City."

"Anything would be better than that. Imperials are so dull, I can't even imagine what Coruscant must be like."

"Probably better weather with a chance of self-righteousness." Tore said, earning a laugh from Kaliyo. "Come on, we need to get Jordel Tlan to talk."

"You told Watcher X before that you 'knew how to make men weak for you'. Is that what you do? Seduction as your primary skill?"

"It's part of what I do as Cipher Agent, to get to my goals. There was training in many different aspects of infiltration and asset acquisition. But if you're asking if I prefer it, then yes. Humans are usually intrigued by a Chiss, enough that even flirtation yields decent results." 

Tore sighed softly, not wanting to say too much. This was an argument she had with herself more than a few times. When she felt good about the job - this was a perk that suited her personality just fine. Humans were much more accepting of overt displays of sexuality than her own people. Other times, she felt the sting of old shame welling within her, a voice asking her why she liked humans so much, a disappointed blue face that told her she was embarrassing herself. It wasn't that the Chiss didn't like sex - they very much did under the right circumstances. Their culture however, was conservative and any show of desire was considered unseemly. 

Kaliyo laughed, the smoky sound interrupting her introspection. "You're probably right - the Republic equivalent of Intelligence can't be as much fun as running around with you."

"The SIS?"

"Who cares what it's called? Anyway, we better go find your executive and see if we have to poison him or not. But next time we come to a casino, I don't plan on spending my time with some paranoid and his droids."

Tore shot Kaliyo a wry smile. "Noted. Let's go and see Master Tlan. I'm feeling rather convincing at the moment."

Kaliyo said nothing, but Tore heard her chuckling to herself as they entered the suite. Without another word, they made their way over to where a droid was arguing with a Twi'lek. If Jordel Tlan was reclusive, this woman must be someone important - and probably their only way in. Tore made a covert motion that signaled Kaliyo to play nice, and took it for confirmation when her partner rolled her eyes. 

She wanted this to go as smoothly as possible, because she was certain Watcher X was monitoring her. He simply wouldn't be worth of his designation if he wasn't.


	9. Flesh and Blood

Master Tlan - Tore had to smile when she thought of him. Paranoid and surrounded by droids on one of the most densely populated places one could ever find. He was a contradiction, but then again, so was she. 

He was willing enough to give her the information she required, and in turn, she took her time reminding him of the delights of companionship of a non-droid variety. It wasn't strictly necessary, he gave her a chance to simply walk away after they talked, but Tore wanted more.

She wanted to forget Sanju and the way his hands skimmed over her, the way they'd fit so well together. She wanted to cover the prints he'd left on her skin with the mark of someone else, so that the memory would fade quicker. There were times when she thought of heading back to Balmorra, just to check in on Minder Twenty, but she could never maker her ship go in that direction. Whenever she let her mind wander, it found its way back to Sobrik, the feeling of hand holding hers, a laugh in her ear and the cantina music loud enough to hear on the street. She was still Silleea in the privacy of her quarters, a part of her she'd wanted to leave with Sanju.

Jordel Tlan's kisses were tentative, weak and out of practice. He was an overeager pup, desperate not to offend and devouring her with his eyes. He was sweet, but lacked charm and finesse and for that she was grateful. The clumsy mouth against her own gave her something to focus on instead of a chance to fantasize that it was Sanju. They were so dissimilar, no amount of wishful thinking could have made her believe she was back on Balmorra.

He was what she needed, and their time together was significant for the both of them. As she dressed, he was no longer the jumpy former executive, and she no longer craved the touch of a man who had declined to go with her when she asked him back to her ship.

When it came down to it, she was lonelier than she realized. Even with Kaliyo, and she did appreciate her strange Rattataki accomplice quite a bit, Tore felt the desire for something more like a relationship. But that thought was absurd, because she no more have a serious romantic relationship than she could retire from Intelligence and settle into a nice little house on Csilla. The very thought bored her. She loved the life she'd created too much to leave it, but perhaps it was time to add to it.

"Thank you for coming by. I appreciate the reminder of what flesh can do." Jordel Tlan said as she rolled out from beneath him, eyes scanning the floor for her belongings. He gave her a warning about VerveGen that she barely processed as she struggled into her pants. Before she walked out, she turned to find him watching and blew him a kiss. She left to the sound of his chuckles only to be greeted by an amused Kaliyo.

It struck her then, just as her holocom began to ding. She didn't want to be thanked after sex, she wanted to be appreciated again. It was the first time in a very long time she'd been able to formulate that thought, to articulate to herself a desire she hadn't realized was forming within her. Unfortunately, she would need to wait to pursue it, because Nar Shaddaa's shadows hid citizens with no qualms about knifing her in the gut and leaving her to bleed out in the street. Her focus had to be on the mission, as always, no matter how weary the thought made her.


	10. Tatooine

There was fucking dust everywhere. The whole planet was a goddamn dustball that clung to her skin and hair, even in the so-called city. The sun was relentless and pounding, and Tore was far, far more miserable on Tatooine than she'd been anywhere else in the galaxy. Though she could ill afford to waste any liquid, she spat into the ground in a vain effort to get tiny bits of sand particles out of her mouth.

She hated the desert. This ghost cell was more trouble than it was worth. If she had a reliable way to find them from space, she would have simply called down an orbital strike and been done with it. All the better if she'd never had to set foot on Tatooine.

That, however lovely it was to think about, was impossible. She had to be here in person, chasing down the scant leads that Mia Hawkins gave her. This cell definitely needed to be eliminated, and quickly. It was enough that they had holographic disguises and could look like anyone, but The Old Man sounded like a master assassin and insane.

Quite frankly, the heat was bothering her and she was just ready to vent on anyone she found. Good for her search, but bad, very bad for the people she hunted.

It was times like this that she missed Csilla. A Chiss could deal with cold far better than the relentless, dry heat of the desert. She was not meant to live amongst the arid land any more than the Sand People would have liked living in her familiar glaciers and ice. It made her smile a little to think that they had that in common - neither she nor the Sand People would have been at home on Csilla. Still, it would have been nice to trade the cold for the unbearable heat. Once she was done here, Tore didn't care if she saw a sand dune ever again. This one visit was more than enough for her.


	11. Meeting Vector

Tore hadn't missed the distaste in Watcher's tone when she spoke of Vector Hyllus, the diplomatic service asset that was to be her contact on Alderaan. Alderaan was a beautiful world, but terrible. The nobles alone ensured that it was never peaceful between the houses, playing their political games as masters played chess. But her files had noted the threat of the Killiks and a few other indigenous lifeforms as well, all hidden between the peaceful, snowcapped mountains and estates. Places like Alderaan made her shiver, with anticipation and dread in equal measure. Tore always found herself caught in playing their games and enjoying her cover too much when it came to nobles, in places with more money and power than sense.

Before she could begin her search, she had to meet this bug-man, Vector Hyllus. He was to be her contact, and they were meeting in a cave near House Thul. There wasn't much more than that to know, and he would fill her in once she and Kaliyo found the place. 

It wasn't deep or dank, and for that Tore was grateful. They weren't very far in when she came upon Vector and his nest. Killiks were disconcerting, to say the least, but Vector was nothing like she'd thought he would be. His photo in his file hadn't done him justice, but there was more than that. She simply hadn't expected him to be so at ease. There were massive, armed man-sized insect life forms all around them, and for all that Vector was one of them, he wasn't. At least, that was how she saw it. Before they'd landed, she'd accessed all the files about Killiks and Joiners as part of her pre-mission preparations. A lone holorecording held information about humans in the hive, a short, classified clip of an interview with a Joiner that was...disturbing. Yet, Vector didn't seem to be anything like the pleading, desperate man she'd seen on in the archive, begging to be let loose and return to his hive.

Vector was more human than she'd expected, and she was glad of it. It would make it easier to deal with him. He wasn't as young as the picture, because the diplomatic service hadn't updated it since the killiks had turned his eyes black. The eyes she rather liked, for they were more like hers than regular human eyes, and they suited his dark hair. Yes, she thought to herself, Vector was quite attractive whether he was joined or not, with shoulders broad but not bulky, his face sculpted with high cheek bones and a full lower lip. She practically heard Kaliyo roll her eyes when she tried flirting with him, but Vector simply called her kind and began to brief her. Still, Tore shot him a fleeting look over her shoulder as they were leaving, but he had already turned back to the killiks and wasn't watching her. She tried not to be disappointed.

"Come on, Agent. We've got people to lie to today and Alderaan is ripe with rich suckers. Let's find this House Cortess and get started." Kaliyo jogged slightly ahead of her, back towards House Thul's palace.

"You seem awfully eager."

"I'm always up for a little deception, especially when the people have piles of money. Besides, bug boy will be there when we're done and you can tell me if he's still fully functional."

"Am I that obvious?" Tore asked, laughing.

"To me, yes. But then again I think you might have to actually to spell it out for him. That slob is pretty much more bug than human." She snorted. "Rubbing forearms," she muttered, followed by another snort. "Did you see the way he moved? It was quick and deliberate, more fluid than anyone I've seen, even the cyborgs."

Tore shot Kaliyo an askance look. "I hadn't realized you were analyzing him while we spoke." She said, but she had noticed it too.

"I wasn't, not really. Had to keep my eyes open, you know in case those bugs decided we were dinner." 

Deciding for once to keep her mind free from the invasions of attractive men on planets she would ultimately leave behind, Tore nodded at Kaliyo's back. "Anyway, you're right. Let's get to House Cortess and see what they know." She said without any apparent enthusiasm for the job. It would be good to get going on this, so she could thrown herself into whatever deception Alderaan required of her, and she was sure that she was going to need quite a few different stories. It was what she loved about her job.


	12. Reassignment

Vector was to be with her from now on, after all his help on Alderaan. She liked him, and he was helpful throughout her visit. Having the knowledge of the hive had been invaluable to her mission there, but Tore wasn't sure he wanted to be with her or Intelligence. Kaliyo may have been right - perhaps he was more killik than man these days. His special title, Dawn Herald, may have granted him a measure more humanity, but he wasn't certainly human anymore. He'd been amongst them for so long, she wondered what a prolonged separation from the nest might do to him.

The hive hadn't been angry at them, or so he'd said, after she refused to give them House Cortess. She still wondered about them, if it was as simple and straightforward as he said, if the killiks never hid part of themselves from the others. Probably not, but the lack of individuality was something she had a hard time understanding. It wasn't a concept that was meant for her mind to grasp, as practiced as she was in secrets, in double-dealing and half-truths. Quite simply his brand of straight up honesty and working to benefit the hive didn't fit in her world.

He'd been so upset after they'd fought the killiks, sounding almost forlorn when he was first reassigned. He didn't think he could go back to the hive. She knew that feeling.

Tore supposed she shouldn't like him so much, but Vector was intriguing. She found herself asking him questions, and vainly trying to flirt with him, but her attempts flew past with no impact. At least it passed the time.

Still, it was nice to have another person on board the ship. She'd wondered about their lack of crew for so long, she'd almost mentioned it to Keeper. Didn't Cipher Agents need other people to work with them, associates and whatnot? Wasn't that what Fixers and Minders were for? There had to more than the few that she'd seen at Intelligence headquarters. But her cover was never a problem, so it couldn't have looked too suspicious from the outside, otherwise she would have been hassled much more than she had been.

Whatever the case, she was glad Vector was with her now.

#####

Kaliyo watched bugboy as he sat in the cargo bay unwrapping a ration bar. She was wondering if he was going to eat real food or pull another orb of membrosia out of the air. She wasn't really interested in what he was doing, but she watched anyway out of boredom.

Was he going to eat that thing or look at it all night? He'd peeled back the first part of the wrapper but was staring at the bar, slowly turning it around in his hands to see it from all angles. Maybe there was something wrong with it? No, it didn't seem to be, because it was practically up his nose now. Vector was drawing in long, deep breaths, as if he wanted to experience the depth of the aroma of a ration bar. They weren't that good - in fact Kaliyo couldn't remember them tasting or smelling like much of anything.

She and the Agent had long since stopped eating them, opting to have the droid cook meals with real supplies they picked up. It was mostly good stuff, some of it was even Chiss food that the Agent wanted. The first time they'd eaten it, Kaliyo had wondered aloud if the Agent had grown up rich - the cuisine was delicious, but not the overly fancy slop served in Kaas City. The Agent explained that there was no money in the Ascendancy, and that the food was customary, good food was for the benefit of their culture as a whole. It sounded boring. No wonder she'd left.

Vector had stopped his sniffing of the bar and now had broken a corner off to roll the pieces between his fingers. She watched him look at his own digits with awe as they smashed a small piece of the bar into something smaller. It was like he was on too many adrenals, and if it had been anyone else, she would have checked her stash. He was really starting to creep her out - she was going to get her blaster rifle out if he kept this up.

Luckily for the oblivious Vector, he started to eat the bar and Kaliyo shook her head. She shouldn't even be watching him - but he talked to himself and was so strange that she couldn't help it. She waited for him to do something again, but nothing happened, he just chewed his ration bar. Kaliyo turned away, her thoughts immediately occupied with her own problems. Just when she was thinking about bugging Imperial Intelligence again about that favor they were supposed to do for her when she signed up when he made a sound like a prolonged "Mmmmmmm", something between a sigh and a moan.

She was going to bed before this got any worse.


	13. Dreams and Understanding

She is dreaming, and she knows it, but facts are never enough to guard against such things.

It is blue and white, icy and frozen, surrounding her. Csilla. Home but not home. She was there at the time in her life when nothing made sense, muted greys blocking out the color, and ice everywhere, especially around her. Tore remembers how it felt, that a Chiss should never feel cold but she shivered the whole time she was there. At the thought, one ripples through her, and even in sleep and she is able to feel it, groundquakes through her flesh.

The shiver isn't dispelled but merely quieted, it still lives along the length of her spine, in the tips of her fingers and toes, waiting to catch her unawares. Her memories are wrapped in mist and fight with her subconscious to come to the surface. _Please_ , she thinks, but she doesn't know what she is pleading for - perhaps relief or answers. It is hard to tell.

It is painful to walk and after a while she doesn't, she crawls. Forward, or at least she thinks it is forward until she shivers again and she has to stop and fold into herself to keep warm. Voices call to her, but they call her the wrong names, and her voice has no sound when she tries to correct them. It occurs to her that maybe she can talk but no one is listening, that it is more important for them to speak to her than for her to answer.

So she listens, but as soon she does, all goes quiet. It is so cold and quiet, and she is alone again, unable to walk or to find her way forward. There is no one she would ask for if she had a voice, no name to find comfort in, no light to pierce mist and help her distinguish shape from shadow.

She is alone.

And that's how Tore wakes up, alone and shivering in her bed on the ship. It takes a while to shake the disorientation, because her first instinct is to bury her head, to go back to the familiar darkness she can't find her way out of. But she doesn't.

She's standing outside her own door, not sure where to go but unwilling to go back to bed. There is no one else around, and even the droid is silent. Her goal is unknown, even to her, but it is better to be up and moving away from the dream.

"We made you tea." Vector says softly when she rounds the corner to his part of the ship.

It's sitting there like they'd arranged the meeting, and he was just waiting on her to show up. When she takes it in her hands, the warmth suffuses her palms and spreads through her to finally stop the shivering.

"Thank you, Vector. I appreciate it."

"Would you like to talk?"

Tore shakes her head without really considering the question. It is impossible to talk about, because there is too much they don't and can't know. Gaps and fissures that she used to think defined her, but now she wonders if they shouldn't be filled in. The problem is, she doesn't how to do it herself.

The tea is the perfect compliment to Vector's silent company, his black fathomless eyes that see so much and reveal nothing, watch over her. She lets him. When they are done, she reaches out. Pushing back the long sleeves of her shirt, she touches her forearm to his, not sure if it is the right way, but the intent is there all the same. In a second, he catches on. They rub forearms and she watches the smile of comprehension dawn on his face.


	14. Part of the Question

The hive was always there in his mind, sharing with him. Joining the nest had enhanced his life beyond measure, and Vector had known only serenity since their merging. His humanity was still there, but it had been rendered almost completely dormant by his time with the hive.

Since leaving the part of him that was still human began to reawaken in a small measure. It was a development borne out of necessity since life outside the hive as a Joiner was an adjustment, but there was more to it than just basic need. The Agent, she made him feel, and because of her he wanted to remember more about being a human. He was still a man, at least in part. Without his humanity, he couldn't function as Dawn Herald or the emissary to the Empire. So they allowed the repairs to his mind, the ones that were more connected to the man Vector than the Killik. The hive was curious - even through all the Joiners, they'd never experienced firsthand a courtship or attraction, and they wanted to know the Agent. 

There was a time back in the diplomatic service when this would have come easier to him, when he would have been able to frame questions correctly and understand her without words. A smile at the right time, the suggestion in his voice rather than in the words themselves. The abilities were still there, but the nuance that was so clear to him as a human was gone. He could taste the recycled ship air, smell her hair and hear her breathing whenever she came near him without any additional effort, but he couldn't gauge her reaction. The subtle reading of people was nearly lost to him. 

When he next saw her he attempted to learn more about her - because he was sure that she had been flirting with him, and he wanted to respond in kind - and he was genuinely interested. Vector vainly tried, but she saw through him when he asked about her family. Perhaps it shouldn't have been his first question, but there was little else that mattered to him than the answer. The probability was high that she had no one, Intelligence agents were noted for their lack of connection. It troubled him in a way, because he was the opposite, the people he knew and met in his travels were the essence in his work with the diplomatic service and since Joining, he was always part of the hive. How quiet it must be to be alone.

"No, I'm not married." She answered, and that was really all he needed to hear. It would have been rude to stop listening, so they finished their conversation, Vector knowing that he would have many questions to answer to the killiks afterwards.

They could feel the giddy buildup of excitement within him and they would want to know why. How could her simple words have affected him in this way? Vector smiled. It was a mystery to them, but it was his pleasure to help them understand. A shared broadening, new experiences for both races, those were some of the reasons why he'd left them in the first place. 

As Cipher Nine left Vector watched, noting the pleasing swish of her hips as she walked. There were some parts of him that responded immediately, no recollection needed. It was like breathing, inborn and natural, the pull of desire and wanting. Perhaps there was something for the killiks to learn from him that had nothing to do with the Empire or diplomacy, but merely so basic and instinctive that they hadn't realized how different it could be when experienced by their Joiner.


	15. Behind the Eagle

Tore's head pounded, and she was overwhelmingly sad, even in this small victory. Darth Jadus was behind it all, and there was nothing that would have led her to the signs any sooner - but that didn't stop her for berating herself silently whenever her mind was clear enough to give way to thought.

When they'd stepped onto the bridge of the ship, Vector said it was like rot in the nest.

Somehow, it felt worse than that. The things that happened - this was her mission, she should have realized sooner. The pieces hadn't added up, even after she'd killed the Eagle on Hutta. Jadus hadn't ever occurred her, but she hadn't really been surprised to see him there. By the time they stood before each other, nothing made sense and she'd thought herself ready for anything. 

It turns out, she hadn't been ready. Not to hear the screams of people dying as she and Watcher tried desperately to keep Darth Jadus from knowing their plans to shut down the Eradicator. The rang out in her dreams, and she woke up in a panic every night. She couldn't help but replay the events in her mind, the cold creep of dread enveloping her body even when Tore knew it was in the past. She should have done more. Apparently Intelligence thought so too, because she'd been called back to Dromund Kaas. 

If only she had some idea of what they had in store for her after such a hard-won victory.


	16. The Great Search

They were given a very short break before being recalled to Dromund Kaas. Vector had taken the time away at Vaiken Spacedock to spend time repairing himself and looking for information about the other killiks. Those that had left before him took up more and more of his time these days, but he was still aware enough to see that Cipher Nine wasn't doing well.

Her fatigue was evident in her walk, though her mind was as sharp as ever. No one else, not the droid on the ship and certainly not Kaliyo, noticed that she wasn't sleeping well, or very much at the moment. She, and by extension they, were all busy, but Vector resolved to talk to her about an undertaking of his own, once he was sure of all the details.

He hated to bother her, but it was time. The nest was curious, and the collective memories of the Great Migration had begun to work their way into his dreams. Vector hoped that his absence might enable a chance for her to rest. It was as likely as not, though the Agent never gave the outward appearance of affection for him and Kaliyo, she nevertheless watched over them. She was the buffer between them and Imperial Intelligence, and they were her responsibility. Her eyes were always there, not in the way of the proverbial Mother Hen, but the way of the consummate operative, scanning and noticing at all times.

This journey would likely take him away for a while, and he needed to go alone. Since leaving Alderaan and the nest, Vector had struggled. Not because of unkindness - the Agent had been very accepting of him, more than he'd expected. In fact, he found it easier to be on the ship with her than it was to interact with the members of the Diplomatic Service. She treated him with a respect that hadn't been afforded to him by other people since his joining. Perhaps it was because both she and Kaliyo weren't human, they didn't see Vector as one of them changed, but just as another alien. Too many Imperials were quick to note his changes and raise their defenses because of perceived oddities that were normal for human Joiners.

The part of him that was allowed to remain human Vector in order to function as Dawn Herald had atrophied during his time with the nest. Living among people again made it an essential part, and one that needed care and tending to develop. It was a stark change from what he'd become used to, the quiet of living among contained entities. He missed the buzzing of the nest, and often misunderstood people since he was not able to hear their thoughts. The result was an acute loneliness from time to time, and gratitude that some smaller Killiks remained with him, even as he drew further from Alderaan. When he thought back on his life before joining, it seemed limited and strangely isolated from his Joiner perspective, though he'd enjoyed the life of a diplomat very much.

He'd always been sociable, and his loyalty to the Empire was unwavering. The lifestyle had called to him, the excitement and prospect of meeting all sort of new beings and seeing distant places. Back then, the woman he'd loved, Anora, had been very nearly the opposite of the Agent, she was expansive and outgoing, quick to laughter with a gaiety about her. In contrast, Cipher Nine was a quiet, pensive soul when left to her own devices, but easily slipping from one persona to another. The Agent, with all of her composure and practiced grace, would have likely have left him fooled and intrigued in her wake, as she did with many.

Vector had to forcibly turn his thoughts away from the Agent. When he thought of her, the scent of her skin, the sound of heartbeat filled his senses and he was nearly lost. It would have been pleasant to stay near her, to run errands and fight so he could be rewarded with her smile. But this was about his nest, the lost Killiks and finding out what happened and bigger than his own desires. 

It was disconcerting how often his own desires conflicted with that of the nest recently. Vector hoped that by making the trip, he could help regain the balance that had once brought him so much contentment. He feared that he would find nothing, or worse that it would lead to some kind of trap that had doomed the other nests, but his curiosity and that of those left behind on Alderaan had to be sated. It was a pilgrimage, to answer questions of the past and ease the path of the future.

His bag was already packed, he merely had to tell her of his task. 

When she came to speak to him, her body language was stiff with fatigue and closed off. The Agent simply agreed without question when he told her of his intentions, but it didn't surprise Vector that she already knew of his plan.

She was waiting as he was about to leave the ship, standing near the door that would let him out to the spaceport where he'd find a ship headed towards the far reaches he wanted to explore.

"Good luck, Vector." The Agent said, giving him a small smile.

He nodded at her and made his way out, turning once to look back. She was still standing there, looking at him as he left. They stood staring for a moment until she raised a hand in farewell and turned away. Vector exited, surprised at just how difficult it was to leave the ship and her behind.


	17. Taris

Newly invested as "Legate", Tore set a course towards Imperial Space, wishing that she were headed back to Dromund Kaas instead of her destination. Taris, of all places, was the site of her first test as a newly minted double agent. The ruined planet had never been on her list of places to visit, but her profession took her to strange places. It was a relief to get away from Ardun Kothe and his control over her - had she not been so good at her job, she might have given into the panicked voice in her mind that threatened to drown out her own thoughts after their encounter. She didn't want to alarm Kaliyo or Vector in any way, though even if she had, she wouldn't have been able to tell them anything. Tore almost hated the safehouse on Nar Shaddaa, because it reminded her of every lie the Republic told.

But she was always up to meet good people and liked Kothe's little SIS group for the most part. Hunter and Kothe himself she was reserving judgement on until she worked with them more. Saber, Wheels and Chance were mission support, clearly just people who wanted to work for their Republic. She understood and respected that, but was pleased that they had more personality than the Minders and Fixers she usually worked with. The Empire, for all that she served it loyally - lacked the verve of the Republic. 

There was an energy of hope within these people, so rarely found in Imperial space. Probably because hope was often replaced with duty and genuine enthusiasm traded for unwavering loyalty to a Sith Lord. Politics in the Empire were always on display and fluid as a dangerous undercurrent, but no one ever lied as they did in the Republic. Things were done by the Sith for the Sith, not because of some lie bandied about to the populace about peace and justice. Slaves in the Empire knew they were slaves, but not so for the Republic.

"So, what are we doing on Taris, Agent?" Kaliyo asked.

"Nothing special, going after a mad Jedi, who's hiding in some abandoned laboratory filled with who-knows-what on this blighted, forsaken backwater of a planet. The usual."

"And here I thought it was going to be interesting." Kaliyo said.

"There's sure to be a cantina and plenty of trouble to get into there."

"You said that about Nar Shaddaa and we weren't even there long enough to order a drink. Well, besides blowing up Nem'ro's factory and the Empire's investment. Glad I don't work for him anymore, because he certainly won't be happy after that. Besides," Kaliyo said, giving her a sidelong look, "I'm not sure your bug boy would approve of our cantina act."

"My bug boy? Vector hardly belongs to me." Tore said.

"You might want to tell him that then. When he isn't conducting long conversations with his arms about the nest or hive or whatever the Killiks call home, he's asking about you."

"Really?" Tore asked. It was nonchalant, but the fact that she'd asked was enough indication that she was interested in the answer.

"You don't need a go-between, and I'm not passing on messages for you. Thought you'd already noticed, with the way the two of you have your little heart to hearts."

Tore said nothing, but she smiled to herself. It had been a while since she'd flirted with Vector, and that hadn't amounted to much at all. She took Kaliyo's words as proof that he was interested, though she didn't bother to ask for a time frame. Tore would find out herself once she was finished with this part of her mission.

Or the thought had been that she would. Once she met Doctor Lokin, she knew that the mission was going to be more complicated than it was made out to be. Chance confirmed her thoughts, even as she tried to thrown him off with a wee bit of innocent flirting to keep him from focusing too closely on her Imperial associate. 

In the end it hadn't mattered, because they needed Lokin to complete their mission, and find the Jedi. Kothe wanted her captured, but if the SIS and Ki Sazen were going to lead her on a merry hunt through the swamps of Taris, the least Tore could do was see that the Empire benefited from it. She'd met Sazen's kind before - the power crazed, raising a cult, devious kind wasn't all that hard to find on Dromund Kaas. She wasn't unlike the a good number of rising Sith Lords, eagerly making their way up the ladder by breaking one back at a time. She would fit neatly into the Empire.

The good doctor was another wrinkle she'd have to deal with. He wasn't going to be easy to get rid of, and he'd heard her talking to the SIS. Lokin had his uses though, and for this assignment, Tore wanted more Intelligence perspective than she had with just Kaliyo and Vector. Besides, she her team could use a proper healer, not just the protocol droid. She would have welcomed his help when she found Chance in the old hospital. Chance's injuries were extensive, but the thought never crossed her mind to leave him there to bleed out on the filthy floor of the rakghoul infested ruin of a building. Somewhat against her better judgement, she saved him. Tore told herself it was to maintain her cover, but she really wasn't sure why she did it. It would have been easier to let him die.

All of these incidents amounted to more complications than she'd anticipated in her already complex mission. It pushed all thoughts of Kaliyo's words and Vector out of her mind for the time being.


	18. Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly out of order, but I like it just after the events of Taris than later on in the storyline. Chance's injuries were grave enough that if you leave him, he will die immediately. He's been in the hospital a good long time when he has this dream, and Legate is long gone from the Republic's service.

The sun was dimming in front of his window, adding its dying light the the already pinkish purple horizon on Coruscant. Chance closed his eyes, letting the meds flowing to him do their work. He wanted to fall back into a deep slumber, because when he was awake, he felt the pain, and had to think. They'd told him that Ardun Kothe was dead. Some of his old team made it, but no one knew where Hunter had gone. He hadn't done his part on Quesh, and they blamed him for Kothe's death - they think he might have forced Legate to work with him by using her keyword. 

Whenever Chance thought of her, about how they used her, the shame nearly crippled him. It was better to not be awake, to not face it. She'd saved his life of her own accord, and he hadn't done a single thing to deserve it. Within a few minutes, he got his wish as the medication lulled him into an unnatural sleep.

"I thought I'd find you here, Chance." An Imperial accented voice woke him and he rubbed at his eyes to bring them into focus.

"Legate?" He sat up, and saw her framed in the window, looking down at him. It occurred to him just then that he hadn't actually seen her smile very much, but the odds on her doing it now were long indeed. "What are you doing here?"

She looked around, turning that blue head from side to side. Watching her, Chance noticed that she was different than how he'd seen her before. Instead of the stylishly messy bun she wore her dark blue hair pulled into, it hung loose past her shoulders, and she had ditched her leather jacket for a snug, soft tshirt.

"Beats me, Chance. If I had to guess, I'd say one, if not both of us are dreaming."

"Ah. That makes more sense." Chance exhaled softly. That explained why he wasn't in quite so much pain, and why she looked like she was another pretty girl on Coruscant, the kind he might smile at if he saw her waiting for a speeder or standing in a cantina. During his waking time, he thought of her often, wishing that he could do more than just lay in bed and feel guilty.

As he thought of the bed she moved towards it, and perched herself on the edge of it, just within reach of him. Although he desperately wanted her to, she refrained from touching him.

"I'm sorry, Legate. I owe you my life. I know you didn't have to save me on Taris."

She was quiet still, and Chance reached out to take her hand, surprised to find her warm beneath his fingertips. She laced her fingers between his, making something in his chest flutter unexpectedly. "I'm sorry." He repeated.

"I know. But I don't think I'll be joining your Republic." She said. He nodded. If he'd been treated like she had after defecting, he would probably go back too.

"Is the Empire any better?" Bitterness still crept into his voice, though he understood her reasoning.

She shrugged. "It's more familiar." Her answer was simple, explaining it all while saying nothing. He watched her for a moment, trying to keep her in his memory. "We didn't have to be like this." She said finally, voicing the thought that had repeated itself over and over inside of his head.

Chance couldn't reply. He didn't know what else to say, but Legate squeezed his hand, before disentangling her fingers. What it meant, he didn't know, but it made him bold enough to ask one last question.

"May I kiss you?" He asked. They were close enough that he wouldn't have to lean far, but it would still be painful for him. His injuries were still mending, and even in his dream state he feared putting stress on them. But for her, this one and only time, it would be worth it. He probably could have captured her lips before she could respond, as they were new lovers making grand moves toward each other. If only that had been their fate. Instead he looked up at her, knowing that he'd already taken liberties where he shouldn't have, and waited for permission.

"No." She replied with a smile. It wasn't the one he'd hoped for - too sad and small for his liking. 

He wanted to think that he could have been hers, if things had been different. There would have been a home for her in the Republic, and the two of them side by side in the SIS. He might have even known her name one day, on a happy day when he took her out for dinner and dancing, bringing a smile to her lips all night long. But all they had now was this small, sad imagining of his medicated mind to placate him. 

Legate stood and leaned over him, brushing the hair back from his disappointed face. When she removed her hand, he caught it in his and she bent to kiss his forehead.

It was a sweet, chaste kiss, full of sorrow and something that wasn't quite forgiveness yet. He doubted it would ever be. The warmth of her hand slipped from his once more, and he let his head drop against his pillow. Tears leaked out from under his eyelids in his sleep. Legate was gone and when he woke, he had only an ache of sadness to remember her by.


	19. Promises and Company

"Tell you what - next chance we have to slip away, we'll find a planet all to ourselves." She'd promised him without promising, intent in her tone and body language made clear. Vector didn't doubt that the Cipher could find a planet for just the two of them, but that they would ever get a chance to slip away. She was, and by extension all of them were, exceptionally busy all of the time.

They hadn't spoken much since she'd accompanied him to the Iesei nest for the celebration. She did remarkably well among his kind, the level of hormones being transmitted would have rendered many unjoined people to fall unconscious. After that they'd been recalled to Dromund Kaas, then off to her new assignment with the SIS. It had gone too fast for him to catch up to her - one moment they were on a break and the next she was immersing herself in the guise of a traitor. 

And then he'd found her on the floor, unconscious. In the weeks since, she'd proclaimed she was fine and they'd gone about their business on Taris, and then Quesh. 

This was the time between, the time they'd been allowed to take before heading back to Dromund Kaas for their next assignment. When he realized how long it had been since they'd talked, Vector sought her out. He hadn't even thanked her properly for everything she'd done for the Killiks. His own efforts were going well, in large part due to her.

She was on the bridge of the ship, alone. The blaze of her aura burned bright once again after a long darkness, and he concentrated on her. Her dark blue hair was arranged as he always saw it, pulled smartly away from her face into a thick bun. He wondered how long her hair was when loosed, unbound, and surprised himself with the ferocity of his desire to see her in a more intimate context. He hadn't focused on his growing attraction for some time, but given some freedom it barreled right through him and reminded him of a life he'd left behind. 

She wasn't oblivious to a presence, but didn't seem to realize it was him until he came closer to her. Vector let himself move into her sightline without an announcement of his presence, but her shoulders relaxed once she saw him.

"We haven't been avoiding you." He said softly, in an effort to underscore his earlier explanation to her. "You are...wanted." Vector had difficulty locating the right word, but wanted seemed to encase what he felt on several levels.

"I didn't think you were. And I've promised you time, when we have it. Although I doubt we will get a reprieve any time soon." She sighed, a faint sound he wouldn't have heard had he not been Killik. "But I do appreciate all that you've done, professionally and otherwise."

"You are talking about your aura, and what dampened it before." He said. 

"Yes. I need to talk. Does that bother you?" The agent asked, regarding him with a closed expression.

"Not at all. We can keep your confidences, as we do with much of the hive business." 

"Ah, so the hive does have their own secrets." The agent was giving him a wry smile as she spoke. "It's good that we don't know everything about each other, otherwise what would we learn?"

Vector let his own placid smile spread across his face. "There are always other fascinations. Secrets are useful, but there are much better things to find out."

"Why Vector if I didn't know better, I'd think you were flirting with me."

"If you have to ask, then we aren't doing a very good job of it."

The Agent laughed, moving closer to him. "I missed talking to you." She said. "There are always things I can't say, but this was worse. Forced." She stopped, holding up one hand. "Best I don't say more."

"Would you like me to stay?" He asked. If he couldn't comfort with words, he could do it with his presence. 

"Please." She said, and then said no more. He stayed until they were both tired from looking at datapads and reviewing astrogation information. They hadn't spoke again, but she reached out and grabbed his hand in a tired squeeze before diverting to her private quarters.

Their song had yet to be written.


	20. The Doctor Is In

Doctor Lokin watched Cipher Nine with no small amount of amusement as she made her way past the medical bay. He didn't find her comically funny - he couldn't ever remember her shedding her serious demeanor and joking - but she was paradoxically amusing to him. The woman was lucky and good at her job, a deadly combination in their field. She was quite the agent, and he had no doubt that Keeper, or rather the Minister of Intelligence now, would do just about anything to keep her in his stable. Most agents weren't that lucky - useful and expendable, they all were. He wondered about the truth behind their Cipher Agent, and how long she could bury it before it all came out.

That was the thing Imperial Intelligence never liked to tell their subordinates. The truth always came out, ugly as it could be. He'd worked with others, watched them descend into violence or anger, their own wants too long suppressed to stay silent so they screamed and roared into existence, fiercely reasserting themselves. All of those agents eventually died.

Cipher Nine never lost her cool demeanor, at least, not where Lokin could see it. Perhaps because she was Chiss, and therefore a little more reserved than most humans. 

Since he'd left Taris with her Lokin had watched and studied her intently, when he wasn't busy with his own experiments. As interesting as the Cipher was, she couldn't tear him from his work. His observations didn't go unnoticed by the woman herself, but he hadn't been trying for stealth. They assessed each other at times, Intelligence operatives using their training to face off covertly while exchanging pleasantries and smiles.

When she cornered him one day, the Doctor was taken aback. Direct wasn't usually their way, but she found a way to ask her questions without asking much of anything at all. "Doctor Lokin, if you have a moment?" She asked, sliding into the medbay.

"Of course, Cipher. What is it?"

"Have I lost your interest already? Or am I just too typical of my designation?"

Doctor Lokin laughed, the sound lighter than he felt. Oh, she was more interesting than he would have ever guessed, and smarter. His estimation of her began to rise, just a fraction. "You are as bright and beguiling as ever, but I can't begin to understand how you keep going." He said, trying to be diplomatically evasive.

"Are you wondering about my motivations?"

"Among other things." He admitted. If she could be candid in her question, he could give up the obvious. She had to know his line of though already, from the way he proposed to join her on Taris. She'd lied her way down to the planet, and those were SIS agents she'd been speaking with on her holo. But he didn't bother recounting what he already knew for her - she was the one that had let him see all of it. So yes, he questioned a great deal of her motivations, even after Quesh.

"What of them is most curious to you?" She asked carefully, not offering to answer anything he might ask.

Oddly enough, he didn't want to ask her about her work at all. It wasn't his business anymore, not truly, even if the habits of a Fixer weren't completely put to bed with his retirement. Lokin had more interesting and less dangerous questions in mind. He wanted to start out with Vector Hyllus, to find out what she knew about him and understand their relationship. The young Killik Joiner had captured his interest, for more reasons than just scientific ones. In more ways than intended, Vector had made his interest in the Agent clear. To his surprise, the Cipher had reciprocated the interest, for it was Vector who most often got her rare smiles and earned her confidence. 

It was unusual for any asset to form such attachments, but especially with someone as unique as Vector. Cipher never outwardly showed any distaste that he was Killik at all. As careful as she was with her jobs, on the ship she let her mask slip in Vector's presence. She genuinely seemed to like Vector, which said more of her character than all he'd observed on Taris. That she cared for Vector was about the only true thing he knew about her, and it intrigued him. There was only so much to be learned by observation however, and even a lie in answer to a direct question could be telling. But Lokin wasn't fool enough to put her on her guard immediately, so he chuckled heartily and made himself seem more benign.

"Do you like Mirialan food, my dear?" He asked. If he could get her back for dinner, eventually they might advance to questions, even if they both could only answer them dishonestly.

Cipher sized him up, those fathomless red eyes zeroing in on his face to watch for his reaction. "I love it, Doctor. Give Toovee a supply list and we'll make time to have dinner together." She said. He nodded at her and she left.

It wasn't dinner, not really, but an invitation for further study on both sides. Doctor Lokin would call it a cease-fire, but they both knew it wasn't, though it wasn't hostile from either side. Whatever it was, it was enough to make the Doctor hum softly to himself as he carried on his experiments for the day. Vector could hear the muted strains of a song that had been popular in his childhood coming from the medbay for much of the afternoon. It was a welcome addition to the hum of the hyperdrive as they tripped through space towards their next destination.


	21. Hoth

There were no words that could express her surprise effectively when the Admiral's men attacked her. Tore simply went with it, not trying to discern motives for the moment. It reminded her of what Keeper had once said, before he became Minister of Intelligence. "We are the sanitation workers of the galaxy." It seemed that she was here to clean up yet another giant mess.

Tore had Docktor Lokin at her side for the mission, because she wanted to observe him more and foster the connection that comes from fighting beside another. They still lacked trust, but they were trying to help each other.

She had no idea the Chiss were so deeply embedded on Hoth, but it made sense, her people were used to snow and ice. It was almost Csilla, or at least like some of the remote outpost reaches of her homeworld. The landscape, deeply covert military installations made right into the ice and snow - it was almost enough to make her nostalgic. 

Tore hadn't spent a whole lot of time there. Just the bit when she was growing up, at the beginning of her ill-fated marriage, and during her time with the secret police. Three distinct periods that only had her in common, and in each she'd been someone far different than the person she was now. The Chiss, they had no space for someone like her. She was too human, too Imperial, too influenced by the outside. An insular people, the Chiss didn't know what to do with one of their own that acted like a human. She didn't regret leaving, though she missed it from time to time. 

The aristocra was a pleasant surprise. He wasn't the kind of man she'd expected to meet here, because the Chiss were particularly proud about hoarding their young talent. As much as they were allied with the Empire, they didn't trust them enough to give up all their resources. Saganu was gorgeous, charming and young, but probably all the more powerful for his youth. His pull was strong, and even Tore found herself unconsciously giving him her attention when he spoke, absently obeying his silent demands for respect. In contrast to Vector there was nothing inherently yielding or understanding about him, though when Saganu spoke to her, his eyes softened a fraction. He liked her, and she might just like him back.

Though Tore did have feelings for Vector, they were never quite clear on where they stood. The more she tried to come out with it, the less firm they seemed. She'd come to accept his quiet presence of her ship as a constant. They hadn't actually talked very much about themselves, aside from his few questions to find out if she was single. It bothered her that she'd been more open with Kaliyo than Vector, but circumstances and time had been against them.

They needed to understand one another, of her dislike of commitment without openness and understanding between all parties. If her marriage had taught her anything, it was that her deep sexual and romantic attractions to others even while in a loving relationship wasn't something she could ignore. Being with a Cipher Agent meant accepting that sex or more outside their relationship fell into the purview of her job. Caring for her meant accepting her as she was, and knowing that she could care for two or more people equally, even if it took different shapes. Loving her as Tore, as herself and not the Agent meant knowing that she could have sex with another, and it didn't besmirch the love they had at home. She and Vector weren't anywhere near that talk, at least not yet, but maybe one day.

However, that wasn't today. Today she was Chiss, with all the failings and hopes that had once defined her. Saganu was like a link to a home she had forgotten she'd missed. But it was her experience that these things would play themselves out, as well as they could under the circumstances. They had a job to do, and she wasn't going to just let Davos walk away with his prize.

Her curiosity was far more piqued by the cheery ensign that served with the Chiss. The young woman, Temple, was certainly good enough to work for the Empire, but yet she'd chosen the Chiss. Tore didn't know what to make of her, but she was sure that her decision to forgo Imperial service was not a random one.

Hoth was much more interesting than her mission briefing would have led her to believe.


	22. The Ensign and the Aristocra

One kiss. That was all they'd gotten from their brief flirtation. One kiss that tasted of cold and home and memories Tore thought she'd buried deep within her. She never missed Csilla save for a few times, and Hoth was making her miss it more than usual. 

Saganu made her feel like she should go home. 

But there was no home for her anymore, no place among her people or the society that had always made her feel like an outsider. The last time they'd seen each other, when they shared their one kiss, Saganu called her the embodiment of the Red Flame. She was his ardent flame, the everlasting light that showed the way to the future through cunning, discipline and strength. He'd even adopted her into his house, for what it was worth. He was trying to give her a home, a family she'd never see, a name she didn't feel fit to bear.

Tore wanted to retreat into the Empire, where she felt more comfortable with her faults. With her name stricken and only a designation, she was strengthened by anonymity, and free of any of the doubts and restrictions of her people. She could be Cipher Nine much better than she could handle the title of Red Flame.

There was little time for such self-indulgent thoughts. She archived her holo message from Saganu. No doubt that she might want to see it in the future, or at least keep him as a holo contact. There were few times she gave into sentimentality, but she feared that this was one of them. Once the message was marked for archival, she swept from her private quarters towards the bridge. She had a new crew member to properly greet.

Raina Temple was more than she seemed, and as good as Tore had predicted. Never mind the circumstances that dictated her reassignment, she was a good and competent officer and Tore was glad to have her around. Plus it was nice to know someone that knew something of the Chiss. While the ensign wasn't Chiss herself, Tore felt a little more comfortable in her presence knowing that years spent amongst her breathern would make Temple more predisposed to understanding her. Not all of the Empire's human population made their Chiss allies feel welcome, let alone understood.

Ah, her sentimentality was ruling her thoughts on this day. All this care for the Chiss and people who understood them was new to her, and Tore wasn't sure if it was because of her or Saganu that this feeling lingered. A rare weakness on her part, but an obvious one. She'd have to tell Keeper.

"Ensign Temple, how are you settling in?" Tore asked as she stepped onto the bridge.

"Just fine, sir. Your ship is amazing, and your crew is...eclectic." Temple answered.

"I am sorry to spirit you away from Hoth so quickly, but we have urgent business elsewhere." Tore said.

"It's understandable, sir. I got a message from the Aristocra wishing me well, so I didn't leave without a goodbye." Temple waited for a beat and then spoke again. "He said he was going to send you a message as well. I hope that he did. He admired you greatly."

"I know. After all that happened on Hoth, I'm not sure I'm worthy of such lofty praise."

"You stopped Admiral Davos and his men." Temple pointed out.

"You're right, the mission was a success." Tore conceded, but said nothing else.

Temple cleared her throat and spoke up again. "For what it's worth, sir, I think you're worthy of whatever praise the Aristocra gave you and more. I'm proud to have joined your crew."

Tore gave Temple a rare smile. "Thank you." She said, and before Temple could say more she was already striding from the bridge.


	23. An Understanding

She would have to tell Vector about the Aristocra. No, that wasn't exactly true. She didn't have to tell anyone anything, and her training made her so adept at lying that even the machines were fooled by it. Tore learned to control her physical responses, her microexpressions and all the other tells that alerted people to lies. 

She wanted to tell Vector about Saganu. Not just about kissing him, because in the end the kiss mattered little, but about how he made her feel. Though she'd been trained to slip in anywhere, to find a place and fit into it and glide out just as easily, her heart wanted a home. Perhaps this ship could serve, so long as she had the right people with her. She wanted to know that he'd follow her wherever she went, though he'd been nothing but willing since Imperial Intelligence had requisitioned him from the Diplomatic Service.

Right now Vector was hip deep in his own dealing with Falner Oeth and establishing trade relations with the Killiks. She wanted to be helpful there, but Tore could think of little she could say or do to supplement Vector's own actions. He would have to take the reins on this one, and she could only help with the incidentals, like speaking to Falner.

She didn't like the man, but that was to be expected. She wasn't sure what kind of diplomat he was, but he was terrible about hiding his feelings over the holo with Vector and Tore found his contempt of the Killiks distasteful. It was one thing to fear them - they had waged war on Alderaan and been used as a menace there by both sides - but it was another to be so openly rude, especially when Oeth was using them to garner more power for himself. Perhaps it was just that she felt slighted on behalf of Veotor, who didn't take offense at subtle barbs aimed by the disgusting Oeth. Tore didn't bother to examine the feeling, because she already knew what she felt for Vector.

There were nights when she dreamed of Saganu, of leaving the Empire for another chance with the Chiss. Whenever his lips touched hers, the red flame that she was supposed to embody consumed her and she woke up with a start. Those nights, Vector calmed her. He made her tea and they spoke of all things, of the nest and their history, and of Daizanna and his hopes for an alliance. She spoke of training and their current mission, of the discussions she had with the other crew members. They talked about everything and nothing, though they were both careful not to delve too deeply into their own pasts, since neither one of them had much to say about it.

It was one such night when she found him, long after the ship had fallen silent and the others had retired or gone about their work. He heard her come in and turned at the sound of her footfalls. "Agent, it is good of you to come." He said.

"Vector, do you ever miss who you were before?"

"We do not often have cause to think on it, yet we have encountered difficulties since leaving the nest. Were we more human, those difficulties would be lessened. Nevertheless, we are part of the nest now and am pleased to be." He said.

Tore nodded. "Csilla is much like Hoth though more hospitable, and being in the Chiss installation there reminded me a great deal of home. Csilla was one of my homes, the one I think about the most." She explained. Vector had his head cocked to one side, listening with his full attention.

"Saganu, Aristocra Saganu, made me remember what I'd left behind. We had a flirtation and he made me part of his house. I am unsure what that means in practice, but it stirred feelings in me I had long thought banished."

"You are an Imperial asset, and yet an alien and outsider. And to be an agent is to be apart from even the rest of the Imperials." He said, reading some of the situation correctly.

"That is true." Tore affirmed. "And all this rumination on the past has led me to think of the future. I keep thinking of a home that feels like this ship. Of a future with a partner that doesn't mind when my job calls for me to make certain physical overtures and understands that I can enjoy those encounters and still care for my partner."

"We are speaking hypothetically?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"If you want." She said.

He didn't answer for a long moment, looking off to the side of the cargo bay before meeting her eyes again. His were so dark, she wondered if he were communing with the nest on this, seeking the opinions of his brethren at the speed of thought. "There are parts of your covert assignments that intrigue us. Things that you do well that we cannot do, and we admire the confidences you win and your victories. Your job and your skill at it is something we like best about you. As for anything further, jealousy is not something a hive mind harbors. You need not worry about a partner feeling anything more than curiosity if you come back to the ship tasting of another's lips."

"Thank you for that answer." Tore said, not sure what else to say after that. Vector smiled at her.

"Not many would have done as much for the hive as you have. Honesty is the best reward we can give you at the present. We wish you to know how we feel, even if we are not ready to act on it yet. Our hive demands much of us, it would be folly overtax ourselves while in the middle of such delicate negotiations. But still, for you we would happily do it."

Tore held up her hand. "I will be right here when you're ready Vector."

"We are glad that we have an understanding." He said, then turned as he started to prepare her a cup of tea.


End file.
